


I'm Trying Hard To Take It Back

by ObscureReference



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aggression, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blind Character, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 12:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: Gladio pressed the palm of his hand flat over Prompto’s face andshoved.Prompto went sprawling to the cabin floor, bouncing off the side of the booth seats as he fell. His face tingled. He’d scraped the heel of one of his hands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I wanted to write a series of soulmate AUs with different pairings, but I just wrote this instead. Whoops.
> 
> Canon compliant! Takes place after Altissia, when the gang is on the train and Gladio and Noct get into a fight. Gladio shoves Prompto just like in the game, if that bothers anyone, but you probably gathered that from the summary. Obviously this is a bad thing. Don't get violent with your friends.
> 
> I feel like this is pretty light angst, but I tagged it as general angst in case I'm wrong.

Gladio pressed the palm of his hand flat over Prompto’s face and _shoved_. Prompto went sprawling to the cabin floor, bouncing off the side of the booth seats as he fell. His face tingled. He’d scraped the heel of one of his hands.

Prompto pushed himself to his knees, caught between wanting to jump between the fight and staying down. He knew he had no real solution to offer and no way to get Gladio and Noctis to calm down. This fight had been building for weeks. Still, every step that drew Noctis and Gladio closer together also made Prompto all the more anxious. His heart was ready to give out from sheer nerves alone.

His distress over where this confrontation would lead was almost as painful as the knowledge Gladio had laid hands on him. He didn’t physically hurt, no. But Prompto’s chest still tightened uncomfortably with the knowledge that Gladio had literally _shoved_ him away. They had all been touchy with each other at one time or another, arms thrown over shoulders and clapping each other on the back.

But Gladio had never shoved him before.

A child a few seats down whispered to his mother that his was scared. A fresh stab of guilt joined the lead weight in Prompto’s stomach.

Gladio was still shouting. Prompto resolved to do _something_. He wouldn’t stay down.

Only moments later was he reminded how foolish it was to believe he could do anything but sit at the mercy of fate and whimsy. Prompto was reminded of this fact when he caught sight of his feeble reflection in the train car window. He froze.

Gladio had only touched him for a split second, but the result was already obvious. The press of a thumb across his cheek. The outline of a thick finger over Prompto’s eye, overlapping his eyebrow. His mouth sat dead center in the middle of the brand that had taken the shape of a broad palm. His face was never going to be the same again.

Gladio’s handprint was already dying itself red and purple across his skin. _Deep_ red and purple. Like a settling bruise. With every second that passed, the tattoo darkened.

This was the shape his soulmark had taken.

Prompto breathed in sharply. He had never been sure if he’d be granted a soulmark, if he deserved one, if the next time a person touched him was going to be _the_ time their touch was ingrained onto his skin. He had eventually begun to doubt it would happen at all. Every casual brush of skin against skin had been a disappointment. He’d let himself daydream about what the moment might be like, doubtful as it was to come, but he had certainly not expected it to be like this.

Never like this.

But here they were. Insomnia and Altissia had been toppled, Lady Lunafreya was dead, Ignis had been permanently wounded, tensions were high, and the Eos was going to hell.

And this. This was the moment Prompto got his soulmark. It was a literal slap in the face.

There were only seconds before somebody else noticed the soulmark blooming across his skin. When somebody finally did, the world did not come to an immediate standstill.

It did, however, grind to a very slow halt.

The faint ringing in Prompto’s ears faded away. The world came back into focus. The handprint on his face did not disappear.

“Then get a grip,” Gladio growled to Noctis, not looking at Prompto at all. “Pull your head out of your ass already!”

Noctis didn’t say anything. He was exhausted, aching like they all were, maybe aching _worse_ than the rest of them, and he had already halfway turned to leave when he caught sight of Prompto’s face.

_“Prom.”_ It sounded as if his breath left his lungs all at once.

Prompto opened his mouth and couldn’t think of anything good to say. He pressed his lips together.

“What?” Ignis asked, straightening in his seat. “What’s wrong?”

_Blind_ , Prompto reminded himself deliriously, the wound still fresh for all of them. Ignis especially. The man couldn’t see the soulmark blooming across Prompto’s face. Prompto possibly owed Ignis the most out of anyone, but he wasn’t sure he could put words to what had happened just yet.

“Fuck,” Noctis breathed. Prompto hadn’t yet risked a look at Gladio, but if the expression gracing Noctis’ face was anything to go by, he didn’t really want to.

_“Fuck”_ was right. Still, Prompto sent his best friend a look that hopefully read _Not helping, dude_ and swallowed his fear.

He glanced at Gladio and found the man staring back at Prompto with wide eyes, his hand outstretched as if he intended to touch Prompto in some way. He didn’t. The space between them seemed virtually endless. For once, it seemed, Prompto had caught him off-guard.

The palm of Gladio’s dominant hand—the hand that was outstretched, the hand that wasn’t touching Prompto now that it wasn’t literally knocking him away—was stained the same purple and red as the mark on Prompto’s face. Somehow the colors seemed even more vibrant on Gladio’s skin than they had in the poor reflection of the window. It almost looked like Gladio laid his hand flat in a puddle of very poignant wine. If wine stained the skin a color that ugly and splotchy, that was.

It felt like the whole train car had gone silent. First Gladio’s yelling about Noctis’ supposed cowardice, and now this. A whole train car full of scattered passengers watching them come apart at the edges. They really were on display.

Prompto pushed himself to his feet and hesitantly touched his own cheek. The skin there didn’t feel any different, but his reflection told a different story. He was marked now.

“Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?” Ignis asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. He had kept himself remarkably together the past few weeks, but he couldn’t be blamed for his irritation now. Prompto’s job had been to relieve the tension, not add to it. He’d failed at that too.

Prompto’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. He was clumsy, off-balance. “Sorry.”

“Why?” Short. Clipped. Prompto didn’t have an answer.

He looked at Gladio. Gladio didn’t seem so eager for the fight he’d been looking for anymore. But he looked far from happy too. Prompto didn’t have it in him to be pleased Noctis and Gladio weren’t going to kill each other today. Something akin to shame burned in his gut.

“Sorry,” he said again.

And then he darted between Gladio and Noctis, squeezing his eyes shut as his arm brushed Gladio’s side—a touch that wouldn’t stain his skin but one that would still echo for hours nonetheless—and made for the refuge of their sleeper car.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's curious, Prompto still falls off the train like in canon, no matter how the next time he sees somebody plays out. 
> 
> If I was too vague here, this is a soulmate AU setting where you do get your mark when your soulmate touches you, but it's usually not the first time you touch. It could be. But it's just as likely to be the twentieth or the thousandth time you've touched as well. So you never know who it could be. A face mark is a little inconvenient though. 
> 
> Also, I hope I made this clear enough when writing, but Gladio shoving Prompto was really shitty even if tensions were high and it's not really excusable at all. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hit me up on my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/)


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